


Asit Tal - Eb (It Is To Be)

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Series: Brainfarts That Ruin The Ozone Layer [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Angst, Ben-Hassrath, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, Headcanon galore, Identity Issues, Kossith, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Qunari, Qunari Culture and Customs, Qunari Physiology, Qunari!Cullen, Seheron, Self-Hatred, Slow To Update, Tags May Change, i make up my lore and canons as I go, irregular updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Inquisitor's magic activates the unknown artifact within the Undercroft, Cullen protects the woman he loves with everything he has to offer, even if it means throwing his own life on the line. </p><p>Nobody expected the outcome and the Inquisition is at a loss. Cullen, transformed by the alien magic, has difficulty coming to terms with his new situation.</p><p>But a force long forgotten is stirring in the far north and, as the eluvian comes to life once more, Commander and the Inquisitor find themselves the center of a very dangerous attention.</p><p>(Cullen's/Inquisitor's POV.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, peoples!
> 
> This story had been tormenting me for a very long while. I decided to give it a whirl. Be warned, it is very headcanon-y and very AU, where I - adjusting my glasses - am trying to make this nonsense presentable and not a total crack.
> 
> Be warned, I am very easily prone to Writer's Block and so I might update feverishly for a while and then abruptly disappear - just to return later.
> 
> Comments and kudos really help me. But only if you think they are deserved.
> 
> Not a native speaker, no Beta. Apologies for that. :)
> 
> With that, I bid you farewell and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do. Fun starts in second chapter. Just saying ;)

"Inquisitor, I do not think your presence is strictly required." Cullen tried once more as they stood in the Undercroft watching Dagna setting up queer apparatus. Emily Trevelyan was a woman of an extreme curiosity. Once a studious sheltered Circle mage, Emily used her newly acquired freedom to hoard even more books and manuscripts, forming a formidable library at Skyhold, both her and Dorian's pride and joy. When the Inquisition had gained the help of Arcanist Dagna, Emily started to spend a lot of her free time with the dwarf, studying her insane contraptions and assisting with the rediculous experiments. More then once the Inquisitor had emerged from the Undercroft face smeared with ashes and smelling like sulfur. One other time she had to chop off her beautiful ashen blond braid because her and Dagna had burned half of it when the chemical reaction went wrong. Cullen had long since accepted he could not always be with Emily to protect her from herself, but his heart still skipped a beat every time she headed back to Dagna's. And Maker preserve if she had Sera trailing behind.

But right now it was different. It had been a year since Corypheus's defeat and the Inquisition had slowed down significally. There were still occasional enemy straddlers to deal with but, since the majority of the workload had been lifted off their shoulders, Emily took this opportunity to use the resources in her undying quest for knowledge. Most of the relics that were found were Avvar, Elvhen or Tevinter but this one had everyone stumped. Cullen took care to be present this time for he did not feel comfortable leaving Emily alone with Dagna and the artifact.

Cullen stared at the carved statuette of what appeared to be a serpent. Or - most likely - a dragon. It looked like nothing he had seen anywhere in Ferelden or Free Marches and yet the scouts reported finding it deep within Korcari Wilds. The statuette was not crude enough to be of Avvar origins and not elegant enough to be Tevinter. It did not look like anything made by elves either. The image of the serpent was carved into a big piece of obsidian rock, its coils encircling what looked like an oval - shaped polished emerald nestling in the middle of the rock. There were symbols embedded in the stone, perfectly outlining the image of the dragon and the egg. Cullen had no idea what they were and neither did the Inquisitor, her eyes open wide in wonder as she carefully studied the artifact. There was a tingle of magic in the air and it was not Emily's, her energy was familiar enough. This one... This one was emitting from the statuette.

"Inquisitor," he started talking, anxiously watching the tall woman moving closer to the _thing_ , her eyes glimmering with excitement. When she paid no attention to his call, Cullen moved closer. "Emily, don't touch it. You don't know what it - "

"But Cullen," she looked at him, beaming. "Don't you _want_ to know what it does? Don't you feel that magic?"

"I do. And I don't like it." he answered curtly eying the artifact closely. He could have sworn, the closer the Inquisitor stood, the brighter the emerald would become. It seemed the stone reacted to magic and Emily was the only mage in this room.

"You don't like _anything_ , Commander." she scoffed, a note of irritation in her voice. Emily loved him, of course, but had never failed to point out how narrow-minded Cullen was with everything that involved magic. It was hard to argue about something that was, in fact, true. Cullen had learned about the dangers of magic the hard way and from that day on his attitude towards mages had changed drastically. Getting involved with Emily made him overcome some of the issues but Cullen still erred on the side of _extreme_ caution when anything magical was involved.

"It seems to be interacting with your powers, Inquisitor!" Dagna chimed in, earning a frustrated glare from the Commander. Emily did not need any more questionable encouragement. "Perhaps you could see if it reacts to the touch?"

"Arcanist Dagna!" Cullen barked angrily, staring the dwarf down as she returned his stare defiantly. "You've said _quite_ enough."

"The stone... Why does it glow so?" Emily whispered and Cullen snapped his head sideways. The Inquisitor hovered over the statuette and the tips of her fingers brushed against the emerald, mere second before Cullen's hand curled around her wrist, hopelessly trying to prevent Emily from making what he thought was a big mistake.

The sudden surge of magic rushed through the air, making Cullen's skin prickle. The light within the stone started pulsating faster with every passing moment and the air was abuzz with the unknown magic. This was one of the few times Cullen had really regretted quitting lyrium. If only he had his abilities he would be able to suppress the wave of magic, to nullify it, to - Maker, to do _anything_ useful!

As limited as his options were, Cullen took the only course of action he could - yelling for Emily to back away, he yanked her close to him and swiftly turned around, his back serving as a shield for the impending magical outburst. Cullen prayed to the Maker he still had some of the magic resistance left in him to not be fried alive, his eyes shut and face buried in Emily's hair. Someone was trembling- might have been him, might have been her. Might as well been both.

It seemed as if an eternity had passed but all had happened within a span of few seconds. The egg - shaped emerald cracked open, releasing the magic confined within. The raw power hit the Commander in the back and he shuddered, unable to contain a scream rising in his chest, the pain brought by the magic unleashed too much to bear. It felt as if his skin, his bones - every fibre of his being - were set aflame. Cullen's breath hitched in his throat and he curled his arms around Emily even tighter, determined to keep her safe even if it kills him. As the pain started to subside so did Cullen's conscience - he felt the tug of the darkness at the corner of his mind, body strangely weary. 

"Commander!?"

"What is _that_?!"

"Let the Inquisitor go!"

"Call the templars!"

_... Why are people... screaming?..._


	2. And So The Lion Became The Ox

When Cullen had slowly opened his eyes, all he saw was a ceiling made out of stone. The place was familiar - he had visited the holding cells more then enough during the Inquisition's hunt for Corypheus. Last thing he could clearly remember was holding Emily, protecting her from the blast and the different voices screaming about something. Or someone. That did not explain why he was locked up down here instead of organizing the soldiers and sorting through the mess in the Undercroft. That _insufferable_ Arcanist! As frustrated as he was, Cullen hoped she was alright. And Emily... Maker, Emily!

Cullen bolted upwards, his initial intent was to call a guard and demand to know what in the Void had happened. It made no sense for him being here. Nothing made sense at all. As he took a deep breath, Cullen felt the straps and buckles of the armor painfully pushing into his skin. The breastplate felt so constricting that normal breathing was nearly impossible. The Commander frowned and tugged on his armour in irritation. The next thing he heard was a snapping sound of the leather straps, followed by the heavy plate falling on the floor. And yet he still felt uncomfortable. Cullen yanked on the leather shirt he always wore under his armour - its collar was digging into his neck like a noose. It was made out of druffalo leather - just like the straps of his plate - and was supposed to be tough enough to slow, if not to stop, a dagger. But there it was, the same ripping sound, and the remains of both the leather and linen shirts ended up in his hand. This is where Cullen felt a wave of panic wash over him. It was not just the overwhelming feeling of wrongness, _he_ himself was wrong somehow and it was no doubt connected to the artifact. Slowly he took off the vambraces, prolonging the moment of taking off the gloves, the shape of which - as Cullen had noticed anxiously - did not look right at all. The tips of the fingers looked elongated, as if he had - 

_Claws._

Cullen recoiled in horror as he stared at his own hand. It looked bigger and the skin colour was off as well - a very pale grey instead of the normal pinkish hue. Granted, because of all the withdrawals his skin always looked sickly but this... And Maker, the claws! They were long and thick now, warm grey in colour and ending in sharp points.

_... This can't be real! This is a nightmare, just a nightmare. Maker, please be a - ..._

The silence of the dungeon was disturbed by a rattle of a key in a lock and footsteps. The guards outside had obviously heard the breastplate hit the floor and called for a superior. Normally it would be him or Leliana they would seek out about such matters. It _could_ be the Inquisitor.... Cullen really hoped it would be Emily. He needed to know she was doing alright and that she was not hurt.

A petite woman with red hair and stormy - grey eyes walked in his line of sight, making Cullen sigh in disappointment. Leliana.

"Sister Nightingale." Cullen said slowly and shut his mouth quickly, realizing the voice that came out was not really his. It was deeper. Not by much but the difference was noticeable immediately, he saw it in the Spymaster's face as well.

"Commander Cullen, I assume?"

She _assumed_? What, in the Maker's name, did he look like? He tried to stay calm but the growing anxiety took the better of him. Cullen's chest was heaving as he slammed the hands on the bars of the cell, old metal creaking under the immense force applied. 

"Correct." it took Cullen a moment to collect himself and try keeping his head clear, desperately fighting against the suffocating whirl of panic rising within.

"What do you remember happening?"

"What do you _think_ I remember, Leliana? Maker's breath!" he snapped at the woman impatiently. Noticing the Spymaster stepping back in light of his outburst, Cullen hissed and curled his fists around the bars. The situation was bad but he could not understand his own primal response to such a normal question. He sucked in some air through his teeth and exhaled slowly. "Forgive me. I - I don't remember much. There was a magical... reaction and I shielded Emily. Then came the pain. A _lot_ of it. I believe I passed out?"

Leliana crossed her arms and eyed him for a brief moment. Cullen's heart sunk at the sight of the expression on her face. He knew the woman long enough to know she was about to say something he would not like.

"Commander," she started, doubt in her voice. "We had to _pry_ the Inquisitor out of your grip and when we did you went... berserk. It took four templars and a mage to finally subdue you, Cullen. As to the Inquisitor - she is fine now, don't worry." Leliana added hastily when she saw fear distort the Commander's features.

He wanted to ask if she was joking but there was no trace of smile on Leliana's face. Distraught, Cullen let the fingers run through his hair - a habit that had always calmed him down in a past. But he froze when his hand stumbled upon something that made Cullen's eyes shoot open in complete disbelief. There were bone structures protruding from his forehead. As both of his hands traveled a bit upwards, brushing over the slightly rough surface, he gagged and shot the Spymaster a shocked stare, receiving back one laced with pity.

"Mirror!" he growled, lurching forwards once more. "I _know_ you always have it with you!"

Leliana reached in one of the multiple hidden pockets her coat had and took out a small gilded mirror. A tacky thing decorated with precious stones but for once Cullen was happy to see it bouncing off the light in the Spymaster's hand. 

It was his face that greeted him, thank the Maker! The features were somewhat broader, adjusted to the overall bulky complexion but Cullen still could recognise himself. The hair had lost its golden shine, looking washed out and almost white. The horns that he had discovered but a minute ago were _big_ \- to say the least - and curled elegantly upwards at the tips. Same as the pair of the smaller horns that started behind his - now weirdly pointed - ears. Cullen's lip lifted up in a disgusted sneer and before he pushed away from the prison bars, a pair of sharp canine teeth flickered in the reflection.

"She can't see me like this." he stated, lowering his voice. Nobody should see the _thing_ he had become. _Especially_ not Emily.

A door swung open again, letting someone in and Cullen retreated to the furthest corner of the cell, flattening himself against the wall in a futile hope to stay unnoticed for as long as possible.

"Leliana, I came to see the Commander."

Emily's voice. Not a request. A statement. He held is breath, trying to prepare for the moment when she sees him, when her face will show nothing but horror and disgust. His eyes were glued to the floor but he still heard the footsteps and saw the shadow obstructing the light.

"Cullen." her calm voice surprised him and the Commander raised his head to meet Emily's gaze. There was no fear in those Fade - green eyes, just surprise and - it _was_ her, after all - curiosity.

"Why are you here? I almost killed you, apparently." his voice made an impression, he could see it. Emily came closer to the bars.

"So I heard. But I can't be the judge of that, being sort of an absent party during the incident. Just like you."

"My slip of consciousness... It does not justify - " Cullen snarled, angry at her for being so forgiving and for him clutching onto that forgiveness like a fool.

" _I_ brought this on you, Cullen," her hand reached through the bars and he, anxious for her touch, carefully curled his fingers around her - now so surprisingly small - palm. "And I _will_ fix it, I promise. Meanwhile, the Commander of the Inquisition cannot be kept in the dungeon like some sort of animal."

"Emily, I don't think it's a good idea." he tried protesting, his resolve evaporating like the dew in the morning sun.

"Nonsence, Cullen," she examined him from top to toe, her eyes pausing on his chest and then on his legs. She rubbed her chin and hummed softly. "However, you will need some pants. You are bursting out of the current ones."

Cullen felt hot blush creeping up his face as he examined the old trustworthy pair of breeches he was wearing. Most of the seams on the hips had popped open, both smallclothes and trousers somehow miraculously still staying in place. Bless the one who made these breeches to withstand. Cullen rubbed his neck uncomfortably, avoiding looking at the women in front of him. 

Emily snorted loudly and went to fetch one of the servants with an order to find the biggest pants in Skyhold within the shortest span of time possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I REALLY overundulged into Cullen's description here but I had this very precise (Read: HOT) image in my head and I needed to show it to the world. Plus, if you are alone, in the dungeon and you feel all freaky deaky, you would like to know what the hell is going on with you.
> 
> I also have a sketch of Qunari!Cullen that I hope I will be able to colour some time soon and post it as well.
> 
> Now, if you don't mind, I will go and take a shower. Commander Cullen is my jam. Qunari Commander Cullen? OH HELL YES.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Much love and cheers <3


	3. The Re - Enactment

His dreams were muddled but Cullen had welcomed the change of scenery. Instead of the accursed Circle plagued by demons he saw distant lands, strange buildings and witnessed large horned shadows populating them. There were voices and they were calling but the tongue was unknown to him. The cacophony of sounds would get louder and more insistent untill Cullen would wake up drenched in sweat, adrenaline pumping through his veins. This did not felt like the withdrawals, for he was not in pain but it was _exhausting_. Cullen's energy levels had skyrocketed since the accident and at first he had welcomed the much needed boost. But a couple of days later he felt it starting to become a burden.

It had been nearly a week and a half since the magic was released in the Undercroft. The first few days Cullen had spent locked in his office, allowing in only the seamstress and the servant that brought the food. Both were the absolute necessity - he had to eat and none of his clothes, save the surcoat, fitted. _None_ , smallclothes included. It had been extremely humiliating to stand naked in front of the tiny elf woman who, albeit professional, still stared. When the elf asked if he wanted to see the measurements, Cullen hastily wrapped himself in a bed sheet and chased her away. There was one _particular_ part that had seem to impress her greatly - Cullen had clearly heard the seamstress gasp softly but he truly did not wish to look at the numbers, for her reaction was _quite_ enough and he himself was anything but blind. 

Once his clothes had arrived, Cullen had inspected every single piece and was satisfied with the result - the seamstress knew her craft well. She kept his old style in mind and it had been the most satisfactory feeling in the world to put on pants and boots and feel them fit perfectly. The shirts, however, were an entirely different story. They all had to have buttons, for none would fit over his horns and it drove him absolutely insane to button up every single one of those with fingers that were unsuitable for the delicate work. In the end, after Cullen tore three shirts to pieces in a fit of rage, he decided to wear surcoat as it was, with nothing underneath. It hugged his frame tightly but was comfortable enough and he did not feel nearly as half - naked as before. 

Cullen did not see the Inquisitor since the day she had promised to help him. Emily was holed up in the library, searching for anything that could give her a clue about what had happened and how to reverse it. The word was she had been all but living in the rotunda, which meant the efforts had been fruitless so far. 

He clenched his fist, watching muscles under his skin roll swiftly along with the motion. With a grunt Cullen rubbed his forehead - his head felt heavy yet again. The feeling would get more prominent when he watched his soldiers in the sparring ring. As soon as his attention switched to their fighting technique, Cullen would feel the world around him slow down, the openings in the recruit's defence painfully obvious and begging to be utilized. The fog would lift as quickly as it came leaving him breathless, his brow drenched in sweat and muscles in his whole body painfully tense.

"Commander!" the door flew open and he turned around on his heels, pinning the poor scout down with a glare. The man made himself small, making Cullen huff in frustration and crack his stiff neck slowly. Turning away from the window did wonders with helping him regain any semblance of composure.

"Yes?" the timbre of his voice made the messenger shiver slightly. None of them could get used to his new voice. Neither could Cullen. Not very talkative by nature, he now spent more and more time being quiet and answering the inquiries as short and to the point as possible.

"Ser, you are being summoned to the war room, immediately."

Without waiting for a reply the scout had nervously sped away, leaving Cullen with no choice but to attend. There was the silver lining here, though - he would finally see Emily again. Despite everything he said in the dungeons, Cullen found it difficult to cope with her absence from his daily life. It is not that they were inseparable - Emily liked her space and so did he - but they would see each other at least once a day. A heavy sigh left his chest - people will stare, they always did. Hiding and avoiding contact just fueled everyone's imagination. The rumours that must have circled the barracks by now - Cullen shook his head, trying to chase the treacherous thoughts away as he pushed open the door.

***

"We are very glad you could join us today, Commander," Josephine chirped as she saw him stepping into the room head first, hoping to avoid catching the massive horns on the doorway. "How have you been -"

"Well enough," he answered curtly and squinted suspiciously as he could swear Lady Ambassador's cheeks pinked up at the sound of his voice. "The Inquisitor?"

"Will be here momentarily," Leliana said calmly, the usual smile on her lips as she looked him over. "I see Melhalle did your wardrobe quite the justice, Commander. It is very... complimentary to your frame."

A giggle, quick glance to the side and yet another blush upon Josephine's face. Cullen's heart dropped - _of course_ the Spymaster went through the seamstresses notes, why would she not? He opened his mouth to retort by saying anything that would sting more than the invasion of someone's privacy, but the arrival of the Inquisitor had thwarted those plans. Cullen straightened his posture, slipping back into the role of the Commander, his hands seeking the pommel of the sword that was not there at present. It had become too small and light to wield comfortably and Cullen had to leave it in his quarters.

Emily looked tired. Even her ever - glowing green eyes, the courtesy of the Anchor, seemed dimmer. She nodded to the two women and smiled at him, making Cullen's fingers twitch involuntarily - he wanted to come closer and show his support but he did not dare. Not before, when everyone was watching and especially not now. Not when he was like... _this._

"I hope I did not miss anything important," Emily said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I was a bit preoccupied at the library."

"It is quite alright, Inquisitor," Cullen nodded. "We hadn't started yet," he turned to Leliana and arched an eyebrow. "Sister Nightingale?"

Where she carried all these reports he did not know. Women were mysterious creatures. Cullen remembered Emily sticking a poultice recipe in her breastband once. 'For safekeeping', she said when she saw him stare. Cullen watched a piece of paper appear in the Spymaster's hand as she quickly gazed at its contents.

"My scouts report renewed Venatori activity. In Free Marches this time."

"Their attempts to settle in the Free Marches were thwarted plenty of times before," Emily said thoughtfully. " Both by us and by the Marchers themselves. My fellow countrymen don't take kindly to invasive strangers."

"Very true, Inquisitor," Leliana bowed her head and quickly put a figurine of a raven on the map. " _However_ , I strongly suggest we ambush the straddlers and take them in for questioning. The fate of their leader - Calpernia - is still unknown."

"While our Spymaster has a point I do think I have a better idea," Josephine chimed in, charming smile on her face. "As the Inquisitor had pointed out, the Marchers do not tolerate strangers on their lands. Dropping a few hints amongst the noble houses will ensure that -"

'There it is.' Cullen thought bitterly to himself, head starting to feel heavy again. Leliana with her endless sneaking and Josephine with her will to jump through the dozen hoops to please the stuffy nobles. His methods were _that_ much more effective and yet Emily rarely agreed to his propositions. After his massive outburst about the Inquisitor going for the mages and her reaction to it, Cullen learnt to keep his mouth shut. However, every time she chose one of the other advisors above him, his pride got hurt just a little bit more.

"Send my templars. A squad of mage hunters will deal with them the _right_ way," Cullen growled suddenly and snatched the small wooden raven off the map, clutching it in his fist. "Corypheus is _gone_. We should be _done_ with capturing and interrogating his bloodmages. Let me handle them my way. The _only_ way they deserve."

As Cullen spoke, his right fist kept curling around the raven all the tighter, making the durable wood creak under pressure. He had barely registered the confused and slightly frightened expression on the faces of the women before him. He was _tired_ of being ignored, _tired_ of their shadowy games and diplomatic bickering, _tired_ of - 

"Commander, are you well?" Josephine's voice seeped back into his consciousness, making Cullen blink. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in concern and, as he unfolded his fingers, nothing but splinters fell on the war table - all that was left of Leliana' token.

"I - I need to be excused." confused and ashamed Cullen dashed out of the room, hitting the doorway with his horns and crying out in frustration as he slammed the massive door behind himself.

The pain had returned. It tugged on every muscle in his body, making Cullen clench his teeth as he sunk the claws into his own shoulder, hoping to find some relieve. That moment his eyes fell on the sparring ring again. Training had always been his way to work through stress. Once the withdrawals had really kicked in Cullen had to lay down the sword and now, when he needed it the most, he could not even properly wield one.

_... It took four templars and a mage to finally subdue you, Cullen..._

Leliana's words echoed in his mind, making Cullen stop in his tracks and abruptly change his course towards the ring. In one swift motion he jumped over the hay bales that served to keep the trainees and the viewers apart. A murmur had risen amongst the soldiers as they watched their Commander straighten his back and examine the crowd, brow furrowed.

"Where are the five from the Undercroft?" he demanded without any introduction. When nobody responded, Cullen scowled in frustration and glared at the crowd.

A small woman stepped forward clutching her staff, eyes wide.

"I was the - the mage, Ser."

"You have nothing to be afraid of," Cullen smiled at her softly but did not come any closer, she looked scared enough as it was. "Templars?"

Someone have listened to him after all, for soon enough a scout came back with the four men clad in armour. Cullen recognized three of them as his own underlings from the Gallows. As they stepped into the ring Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to ignore the crowd as he took off his surcoat and put it aside with care.

"A re - enactment if you will," he cracked his knuckles slowly, feeling the surge of adrenaline rushing through his body yet again, bringing back the familiar feeling of the world coming to a grinding halt. "Take your positions and let us begin."

***

Emily gave Cullen a head start. Their relationship was built on respecting each other's space. Especially if the person that required said space was a tall, burly and frustrated... _creature_. She waited for about five minutes, agreeing with Josephine on the mattwr of contacting the nobles in the Free Marches and then followed the Commander. There were several places Cullen favoured when he wanted to be alone and all of them required crossing the courtyard.

The cheers and the hoots had reached her ears somewhere in the middle of the Great Hall, making Emily frown in confusion as she pushed the doors open, scanning the courtyard for the source of the commotion.

The crowd that had encircled the sparring ring had been quite formidable - despite giving the leave of absence to many soldiers, plenty still stayed within Skyhold, ready to assist the Inquisitor if needed. From where she was standing Emily had a good view of the centre of the ring, where Cullen and four templars were moving around in slow circles. The Commander's stance was not that of a warrior - something predatory shone through as he hunched his shoulders, bending the head lower as well. Like a bull ready to charge.

Emily had read the report of Ser William, one of the templars that helped to subdue Cullen after the Commander's transformation in the Undercroft. 'The strength of a Behemoth, with an unexpected agility for someone of that size and mass.' The report led to believe that every attempt to perform an assault ended up in failure, making Ser William and his templars go on the defensive - exactly what they were doing at this very moment. Cullen lunged forward, making one of the templars step aside in a hurry, defending himself from the sharp claws. The Commander twirled around in a cloud of dust and clutched his fingers around the tower shield, lifting the massive piece of metal into the air, the templar still holding onto it. The crowd gasped and Emily felt a ripple of magic through the air as a fireball all but grazed Cullen's back. She squinted at the small figure at the edge of the ring. It must have been that mage, the one that helped the templars during the incident. Emily scrunched her nose in an attempt to remember the woman's name. Satile, of the Starkhaven Circle. Meanwhile, the unlucky templar had time to loosen the straps of the shield and dropped himself onto the ground, scurrying out of the harm's way. 

The fireball was an obvious distraction and it worked, as Emily observed Cullen snapping his head sideways and covering himself with the shield - a templar habit embedded so deep even his current state could not weed it out. The four templars did not fail to see the opening and had immediately gone on the offensive, dropping the shields that would only slow them down. Swiftly and efficiently they locked Cullen in a half - circle. 

Emily, who now pushed her way to the front row, observed how the men kept herding the Commander to the edge of the ring, closer to the mage. And he could see it too, it was written all over his face. Cullen's only option was to ram into the templars, making a tear in the chain that they had formed. Emily knew he would not go for it - too scared to harm his own people, whose well - being Cullen had always put above his own. Ser William barked a curt order and a melodic voice chanted the incantation, encircling Cullen in the shimmering purple field made of magic. _Magic Prison._

Emily stiffened - this was bad. She saw blind panic on the Commander's face and the next moment he screamed, throwing himself onto the barrier. The magic had responded accordingly, sending a wave of electricity through him. Another scream and another fruitless attempt to penetrate the barrier that ended in more pain.

"Everybody, _out!_ " she yelled as she entered the ring, griping her staff. This had to be dispelled as soon as possible. People around them scuttled, running to safety and making space for the Inquisitor. "You as well!" she barked at the templars and the mage. 

Once the area was clear, Emily took a deep breath and plunged her staff into the ground, shouting the incantation. The air itself vibrated, destroying Satile's magic and making the templars in the vicinity shift uncomfortably - Emily's powers, amplified by the Anchor, were extremely potent. Cullen stared at her, his fear and rage almost palpable. To him she was nothing but a mage right now, a mage who locked him in his worst nightmare. A primal growl boiled in Cullen's throat as he charged directly at her. Emily started to tremble but she had to wait untill he was close enough to - 

They collided and - by sheer miracle - Emily ended up on top and relatively unharmed. A soft white light emitted from her palm as she pressed it to Cullen's forehead.

"Sleep."

Anger. Recognition. Horror. Cullen opened his mouth to say something but the spell had already taken hold of him. The Commander's eyes rolled backwards, his head softly hitting the sand as he lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I bid my excuses for the grammatic disaster that is this chapter. Whatever knowledge of the punctuation and Perfect tenses I've learned in school had left me today, leaving a painful void of self - doubt. "Do I put an effin' coma in? DO I NOT?? Kill me now?!"  
> So sorry, hope it is not too eyegouging.
> 
> Apart from that, I am quite happy with the narrative part of the story. Even the action sequence, that I am so crippled in, came out rather solid. If I daresay so myself. ^^
> 
> Let me know what you think, I love to hear from people about the goodness that is QUNARI CULLEN, yo!
> 
> Or, more accurately, I like to hear from people.
> 
> Also, next chapter will have angst, this I promise.


	4. The Eluvian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bird? A plane? A potato salad? NO! A paragraph of badly written smut.
> 
> And my drawing of Cullen and the Inquisitor that I totally should have coloured if I did not have pathological hate of how my art looks in photoshop.  
> [](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/Angel_Trent/media/Mobile%20Uploads/20160416_141803_zpsxykexh7w.png.html)

Cullen woke up in the infirmary. He had recognized the place immediately - too many evenings spent here when the withdrawals were the hardest. Last thing he clearly remembered was Emily's voice ordering him to sleep, her palm glowing softly. With a groan Cullen lifted himself up on his elbows, the effect of the magic still clouding his mind and making him sluggish. Sleeping spell was one of the most simple to learn, however, it was hardly ever used by anyone but the healers. Mostly because of the inconvenient way it had to be applied. Its duration and the side - effects were proportionate to the power of the caster and it had to - 

Cullen blinked, trying to focus and stop his mind from wandering. Every thought felt as if he was trudging through a mire and Cullen wanted nothing more then to drop back on the pillow and rest. But something inside had been gnawing on him, a feeling he had done something bad. 

"Commander, you are awake." a voice to the right made Cullen sway his head drunkenly and stare at the woman in the doorway. She came closer and, all facts considered, was probably a healer.

"Serah -," he mumbled, desperately trying to remember the woman's name. Maliah, the elven healer that treated his lyrium - induced aches, took a leave to visit her clan and it seemed one of her apprentices was managing the infirmary in her absence.

"Lana, ser," the healer said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a herd of druffalo's ran me over," Cullen let his feet rest on the floor and absentmindedly reached for his neck, pausing in the air when his gaze fell upon the bandages that were covering the length of his right arm. "How - "

Electric shock burning his skin again and again as he tries to break out of the accursed circle. A woman in front of him as he charges, blinded by fear and hate. Emily's voice, as her trembling hand presses to his forehead.

_... Sleep..._

"Maker, no..." a pitiful sob left his mouth as Cullen, horrified, hid his face in his hands.  
He hurt Emily. _Assaulted_ her, yet again. Whether his coherence had been in question, mattered not - he had endangered someone he loved _twice_ now and it had to stop. 

"How long have I been here?" Cullen barked at the healer, poor woman stepping back in surprise. "Forgive me." he apologized quickly and stood up, leaning on the closest wall for support.

"Two days, Commander," Lana answered, unrest in her eyes as her hands fiddled with the apron she was wearing. "Taking in account the raw power of the Inquisitor's magic, it was expected for a templar to come to within a week," she paused for a moment, attentively examining a grass - green stain on her sleeve. "However, on account of your condition, Commander, we were not sure how long it would - "

So, it seemed he had a _condition_ now. The mere thought was irritating. Just as the healer, with that high - pitched voice of hers, was becoming increasingly irritating. Cullen shook his head, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Whatever had made him this way had amplified every single emotion he had, making the feelings and the consequences thereof hard to control.

"The Inquisitor," he said carefully, trying to keep his voice calm and eyes on the ground. "Was she harmed?"

"Bruised ribs, ser. But we've seen her much worse after a dragon hunt. Her Worship was out and about in no time."

Cullen let out the breath he did not know he was holding and rubbed his temples. Just her ribs, nothing more. But even if it turned out to be a single hair off her head, he was responsible. He, the one who swore to himself to protect Emily from everything and everyone, was the one who hurt her.

Without bidding the healer farewell Cullen donned his surcoat and marched out of the infirmary, troubled expression on his face.

***

Emily yawned and squinted at the book in front of her. Yet again, nothing. The Skyhold library was completely and utterly useless. Emily hoped she might have missed something but alas. Back when Dorian was around they have read, pretty much, every single book on these shelves.They were the ones that brought in new additions to begin with. The Inquisitor stretched her arms and yelped, sore ribs protesting against such frivolous motion. Then she froze as the thought hit her.

_Dorian._

Emily had always been self - reliant, the sheer idea of asking for help before exhausting her own resources would rarely cross her mind. Sometimes it made people's life complicated, and now Cullen was experiencing it firsthand. Emily cursed loudly and reached into her satchel, rummaging in there for a moment before taking out a small blue crystal. It shimmered softly as Emily put it in front of her, mentally picturing Dorian, and touched its cool surface with one finger. It took a moment but soon enough the crystal erupted in bright light, forming the familiar silhouette on the other side of the table.

"Do you even _know_ what time it is?!" the figure demanded in Dorian's voice and then he grinned, dashing as always. "It is good to see you, Inquisitor."

"It's been a while, Dorian," Emily smiled, leaning back in her chair. "How is Minrathous?"

"Fashionably vile, as always," the mage answered dryly as he twirled his moustache. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"A magic - related accident had happened in Skyhold recently," Emily sighed and re - arranged her notes - a very sad amount of notes that led her investigation absolutely nowhere. "And Cullen ended up on a receiving end."

"You have my undivided attention."

And so Emily told her friend everything. How the scouts found the artifact in the Korcari Wilds, how her powers had unexpectedly activated it, how Cullen protected her from the blast and what had happened to him as he came in contact with the ancient magic.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Dorian took a parchment in his hand and cleared his throat. "The brave Commander of the Inquisition, as described - 6'9, grey skin, claws, two sets of horns - Fascinating," he paused for a moment and nodded to himself. "White hair, sharp fangs, slightly pointed ears ... Did I miss anything?"

"Confusingly attractive..." muttered Emily.

"Seeing is believing, my dear Emily," Dorian commented slyly and then his face got serious again, lips pursed thoughtfully. "Anyway, this... This sounds awfully familiar," the mage hummed to himself and finally clicked his tongue in frustration. " _Kaffas,_ I should know this!"

Emily watched her friend agonize for a good minute, till she finally clapped her hands together, attracting Dorian's attention.

"How about we talk tomorrow? It will give you more time to poke around it that brain of yours. Just the thought of it being familiar to you gives me hope."

Dorian, who looked slightly defeated by his inability to remember, grinned at the veiled praise and nodded.

"You will have your answer on the morrow, Inquisitor." he promised as the light from the crystal dimmed, signalling the end of their conversation. Emily was jittery with excitement. She had to tell Cullen that they were close to a small breakthrough. If anything, it would make him feel a bit less gloomy.... If she was lucky.

Emily gathered her belongings and rushed to the infirmary - the last place she saw Cullen at. Lana, who met her at the door, told the Inquisitor that Commander Cullen left earlier this evening in a rather foul mood. The next stop was his study but, as Emily opened the door, she found the room dark and cold - Cullen did not come back here. Her heart sank - there was still one more place left to check and she prayed to the Maker she would find him there. A quick detour to the stables had soothed her worries a bit - master Dennet reported that no horses were taken. Chantry, then. Cullen went there when he was troubled. As much as his faith had waned through the years, unable to withstand the harsh injustices Cullen had witnessed, the templar in him would still turn to the Maker in the hour of need.

It was hard to miss the hulking figure kneeling in front of the statue of Andraste. She saw his shoulders stiffen as she entered but Cullen did not move. Emily came closer, observing his profile - Cullen's eyes were closed and the soft lips moved soundlessly along with the verses. The light of the candles threw harsh shadows along his pale skin, accentuating every scar and every muscle. Her Commander had always been handsome - he had that Fereldan farm boy charm his countrymen were so famous for. But now... Emily chewed on her lip as she let her eyes slide over his frame. Unknown. Mystifying. _Desirable._ She remembered helping Lana to bandage Cullen, the memory of her fingers sliding over his skin still fresh in Emily's mind. Both familiar and foreign at the same time. Maker, such thoughts! In the Chantry!

"Emily," his voice startled her, that new velvety undertone sending shivers down her spine. "What do you need?"

"Some of your time," she said quickly, hiding her face and hoping Cullen did not see her blush. What was wrong with her? They have been together for almost three years now and she was acting as if they had just met. "I have some news."

"Emily, listen. This can't continue, I refuse -," Cullen stammered when Emily's words had finally reached him. "News?"

He let her through first, carefully closing the door to the Chantry behind them. The sky was clear tonight, the moon shining its silver light upon the small garden, making dewdrops on the ground shimmer like pearls.

"I've contacted Dorian. And it seems he might know something."

" _Might_?" Cullen put his hands on his hips, radiating disappointment. "Forgive me if I am not enthusiastic."

"Don't be like that," Emily said briskly, crossing arms on her chest. "Dorian swore he will have the information tomorrow. We are so close to figuring out what you are!"

Anger lit in his amber eyes and Cullen sneered, scar pulling on his lip.

"Oh I can save you the trouble, Inquisitor," he hissed. "A monster. A freak. Something for you to study and document, limb by limb."

When Emily said nothing, too shocked by his sudden outburst, Cullen continued talking, pacing in front of her nervously - a habit Emily was not fond of. But in his anger he looked magnificent - eyes ablaze, cheeks flushed, the lips - Maker, the lips...

"You think I do not notice? How you look at me? Even now! Like I am some sort of -," he stopped and raised his arms, grunting in frustration as the appropriate comparison eluded him. "Void - forsaken cabinet of curiosities!"

"Maker have mercy, Cullen!" she exclaimed and pushed him in the chest. Considering his current height and mass Cullen did not shift even an inch. "How dimwitted can you be?! I _love_ you. I am responsible for what had happened. I am _trying_ to make it better and all you do is sequester yourself and wallow in pity."

"Did you stop to think why? Maybe because I've almost killed you _twice_?!" he growled, griping Emily's wrists and instinctively pulling her closer. She did not struggle, her Fade - green eyes boring into his. "Are you _that_ stubborn?!"

"I can make my own decisions, _Knight_ \- Commander," she hissed in aggravation. _Mages have to be protected. From the world and from themselves._ Cullen's templar habits of treating her as a precious wallflower were always untimely and irritating. "We've been together long enough for you to remember that I can stand my ground. That I hunted and _killed_ several dragons and that I -"

In one swift motion Emily felt herself being lifted off the ground, as his lips crashed against hers. She muttered something mildly offensive into the kiss as her hands snaked up Cullen's shoulders and around his neck. Her tongue ran over his lips, asking for permission but only when she nipped gently at his scar, did Cullen open his mouth in quiet moan. Her tongue explored, brushing against the unfamiliar sharp canines, making her shiver in anticipation of feeling them on her skin. Cullen let her down on the ground, his hands never leaving her hips and bowed forward, capturing her lips once more. Emily pressed her body closer, savouring the softness of his lips and then she felt it - a formidable bulge against her stomach. Emily's breath hitched in her throat as one hand glided down his chest and toned abdomen, finally resting on the front of his breeches. Cullen's eyes shot wide open as she started kneading the leathers, slowly at first but quickly picking up the pace. 

"Maker, I've missed - " a growl rumbled in his chest as his kisses gained urgency, hands leaving her hips as Cullen tugged on her shirt impatiently, finally tearing it open. Emily wiggled out of it, letting the - now useless rags - fall on the ground. One sharp claw ghosted over her collarbone and then disappeared, just to feather over her nipple a moment later. The new sensation of both pain and pleasure made Emily arch her back desperately, feeling Cullen buck his hips into her palm.

And just as sudden as it started, the moment was over. Cullen snapped his head upwards, looking rather alert. Emily opened her mouth to ask what was wrong and then she felt it too. Magical energy, nearby. It was coming from - 

"Eluvian." Cullen's voice was low, as he scanned the garden slowly, before letting Emily go. "Don't," he added anxiously when he guessed her intention on going to investigate. "I should be the one to - "

"Cullen," she huffed, raising her chin defiantly. "We _just_ had this conversation. I am going."

"Maker's breath, Emily, you will be the death of me." Cullen pinched his nose bridge and then hastily took off his surcoat, wrapping it around her. "Um, your blouse... I - this will keep you warm."

Emily had no objections. Her breastband stayed intact but provided no warmth. She dug her nose in the furs, inhaling the familiar smell of oil, honey and sandalwood as she followed Cullen, who had, once again, assumed the predatory grace she had witnessed days earlier in the sparring ring.

She was right behind him as he pushed the door open. What had happened next was just a cacophony of sounds. The room got filled with smoke. The fire that had sprung to life in Emily's hand was unable to penetrate its density.

"Ebasit saarebas!"

Emily felt someone grab her by the hands and swiftly tie them behind her back. She tried to fight against the binds but that earned her a slap so vicious, her teeth clanked together. Something trickled down her forehead. It felt like a gash from a sharp object. _Claws._ But Cullen would not do such a thing. Emily squinted but all she could see where tall shadows amidst the smoke. 

"Don't you dare touch her!" Cullen yelled somewhere on the other side of the room, near the eluvian.

"Parshaara, Vashoth!"

A loud cracking noise as if someone's head got hit against the wall, followed by a moan. A foul smelling rag got suddenly pressed against her nose, making Emily screech in disgust and thrash, hopelessly trying to break free. The sounds became distant and Emily felt her legs give in from under her. The world spun away, becoming nothing but a dot in the vast abyss that was her consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Ebasit saarebas! - It is the mage!
> 
>  
> 
> **Parshaara, Vashoth! - Enough, Vashoth!
> 
> This chapter, once again, full of headcanons. About spell - casting, about magic sensitivity. And, of course, the fact that even the Vints do not remember who Qunari are. In this story they have not been seen on the mainland for at least 200 years.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter! Kudos and comments are always highly welcomed and loved.
> 
> Hit me on on tumblr (zhar_ptitca) I love meeting new people and chat about things. Feel free to hit me with prompts and fic ideas as well ^^


	5. Not All That Smells Is Shit

His head was pounding as loud and monotonous as blacksmith’s hammer. The last thing Cullen remembered was someone slamming him against the wall with an immense force. Were he still his human self, Cullen would be - no doubt - by the Maker’s side by now.

_… Emily..._

The thought made him stir, feeling every inch of his body cry in agony. The shoulders were especially painful and stiff. Glancing down had confirmed his theory - Cullen’s hands were bound together behind his back with a rope. Further inspection revealed a series of unfamiliar and yet extremely effective knots that were holding the contraption in place. The rope encircled his elbows and disappeared in the direction of the wrists. Even with his new strength applied, Cullen was unable to break free. The more he struggled, the tighter the shackles were becoming - the ropes started digging into his skin causing burns.

A sigh in the cell across his own made Cullen crawl to the bars and press his face against the cool iron, eyes burrowing into the dim exterior ahead. He could see her - curled up on the floor, her breathing slow and deep.

“Inquisitor!” he called out to her and then switched to a softer tone, panic in his voice. “Emily, talk to me.”

She lifted her head and then sat up straight, a whine escaping her mouth as the muscles started to wake up slowly, causing her discomfort. She tried to stretch, failed and, after several failed tries, finally managed to stand up and move towards the bars of her cell. Her face lightened up as she saw Cullen in the small space across.

“I am fine,” she assured him and licked her lips, pulling a face. “It seems these people used something to the likes of a deathroot - soaked rag. A vile thing but very effective.”

Something kept bothering Cullen as he kept studying Emily. It seems she also smelled differently - he could distinguish perfume and sweat but the most recognizable of her smells - that of magic - was absent.

“Your eyes,” it had finally dawned on him as he kept staring, unblinking, at the Inquisitor’s face. “They are - They are _blue_.”

“Right,”Emily’s eyebrows flew up and she gave Cullen a look as if he was drunk. “My eyes were always -” she fell abruptly silent , realizing what his words actually meant.

Her eyes used to be blue once. That had changed with the Breach, Fade’s magic coloring Emily’s irises venomous green. Cullen had absolutely no way of knowing this and they have never bothered to talk about such trivial things as her natural eye coloration.

“And,” it seemed Cullen was set on bringing more bad news. “I can’t feel your magic. And, ah, forgive me but… Can’t smell it on you either.”

“First of all, _Commander_ ,” Emily grimaced. “Telling a lady you can smell her are bad manners. Secondly,” she raised her arms higher and Cullen could see a pair of heavy shackles on her wrists. The metal was dark and did not seem to reflect light. Its surface was extremely smooth and reminded him of a polished dark mirror. It did not look like any of the alloys he had ever encountered. Then again, his knowledge on the subject was rather limited.

“Secondly,” she repeated, examining her hands. “I think these cut off my mana. I suddenly feel so...”she paused searching for the right word and then nodded to herself. “Empty. As if I got hit by the Holy Smite but without the exhaustion, you know?”

Sometimes Emily could be extremely insensitive. Her life in the Ostwick Circle was a peaceful one and she even told him once that mages and templars would go against each other in the mock duels. It was completely voluntary and left healers - in - training with something to do afterwards. Despite the fact that Cullen had made peace with his past to the best of his ability, the discussions like that still managed to hurt him. Being near a mage, being _in love_ with one often reminded Cullen of his past transgressions.

“Enough of that!” he barked irritably, regretting his outburst a moment later. Controlling emotions was still extremely difficult. Cullen took deep breath and forced himself to lower his voice, mentally first. “You know how I -,” a sound further ahead attracted his attention and Cullen cocked his head in the direction of the noise. It seemed that Emily did not hear anything, for her expression was that of worry and confusion.

“Three people, I think,” Cullen started whispering frantically. “I - Don’t know. A woman? With guards? One guard, maybe?” he tried listening a bit more but the noise started pounding on his brain and, with a frustrated growl, Cullen slammed his head against the bars. Strangely enough it had helped - the vibrations within his skull had seized as abruptly as they have started. 

A door rattled open ahead and the light of torches had chased the darkness away, making both the Inquisitor and the Commander squeeze their eyes shut and turn to the other side.

Cullen was the first one to look up. He had been right after all - three _things_ stood in front of him. Two males and a female, if the frame was anything to judge by. Their appearance did not escape him either - tall, gray - skinned and horned creatures, much like he himself now. Their backs were turned to him and they kept talking to each other in that same language Cullen had heard in his dreams first and from their assailants later. He could not understand a single word at first and then, out of nowhere one name came through, clear as day - Solas.

“What do you know of Solas?” Emily spoke, her voice calm as if she was not the one held prisoner in the unknown dungeon by beings she had never seen before.

“Perhaps we should ask you, _bas_ ,” the woman spoke in the familiar tongue, albeit heavy with accent. “After all, he was within your little Inquisition, was he not?”

“You seem to know awful lot about me and I think it is only fair if you return the favor.”

“A brash _saarebas_ ,” the woman crossed her arms. “Here your kind is silent and obedient, as it should be,” she paused and dropped her hands on her hips. “But your people consider you a leader, Inquisitor, so I will extend you the courtesy of knowing me.”

“I am Viddasala,” somehow Cullen could tell that the woman smiled but the smile was anything but pleasant. “I specialize in studying and stopping magic, Inquisitor. Especially the kind you happen to possess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, magic smells too... In my headcanons.
> 
> Anyway, half of this chapter had been sitting on my Hard Drive for half a year now, while I kept suffocating in Writer's Block (still am to be honest) But I am always thinking about my fics and I really want to continue them. Just putting stuff down in actual words is very difficult nowadays.
> 
> Anyway, if you stuck around - thank you. I am glad that you read this. if you are new - thank you still for coming and checking my stuff out. I love hearing from people and always welcome kudos and comments.
> 
> Cheers,  
> Garbage


End file.
